


O Brave New World

by AngelTennant



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Catra (She-Ra) Redemption, FTM Catra, LGBTQ Themes, Other, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, Post-War, Trans Catra (She-Ra), Trans Male Character, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24252301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelTennant/pseuds/AngelTennant
Summary: Catra did not know what happened when she pulled the switch, and now that the war is over, it is coming back hauting him.Trans FtM Catra (Ft something at least).
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 81





	1. Victory (POV Catra)

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: Teen and up audiences. Possible presence of mild violence, crude language, evocation of adult themes. No graphic depiction of sex or extreme violence. 
> 
> This work is a fanfiction sequel of season 5 of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power. It contains spoilers of all the seasons aired before the 17th May 2020. 
> 
> Language warning: English is not my native language, and I learnt and speak British English whereas the show is written in American English. Small variations may therefore occur in the writing of the characters, as well as small grammar mistakes left unnoticed. 
> 
> Triggers and Content Warning: dealing with trauma from war, being an orphan / being abducted from your parents, guilt, death and murder, political and democracy issues. 
> 
> Main tags:  
> LGBT – Trans characters – FTM Catra – Post-Prime invasion – Developing SPOP Lore – Dealing with the fallout of Prime invasion. 
> 
> Writing warning: This work is written with various first person POV (point of view). This point of view will be specified before each piece.
> 
> All the quotes are from "goodreads.com", the translations of them is the one found on this website unless said otherwise. Every book quoted has been read by me and influenced my writing of the chapters.

Only seven days had passed after Horde Prime’s defeat when I saw the first workers start rebuilding the castle of Brightmoon. I had never seen the inside before when we arrived with Adora, Glimmer and Bow, to find a little rest after the events and, maybe, organise what was left of Etheria after the war.   
The place is too beautiful for words, but also too fancy. I guess growing up in the Horde made my taste very martial, because Adora later admitted that although she got used to it, there was still some things that were still beyond her comprehension. I could understand the need for a private room, especially after years trying to sleep at an ear reach from the snores of Rogelio; but other things, like the absolute necessity of a cascade in the bedroom for example, were a permanent source of bewilderment for me.   
What they called “the spare room” (which I learnt later was made a prison when necessary – and made me laugh too hard for Glimmer’s susceptibility) was set to be my room, but my frugal nature was very uncomfortable in such a splendid inside, so I simply moved my bed in Glimmer’s room, next to Adora’s. Such a place is made to sleep after all (and sometimes to sulk). The only thing I regretted was that the spare room had the advantage of not having a cascade, but seeing Adora enjoying the one at Glimmer’s was making up for it. 

The main building of Bright Moon castle was a millenary facility with magic reinforcements sealed in its very structure, so it had not very much been affected by Prime’s bombings. There was a few marks of a brief Horde occupation on the outside, such as banners, a few paintings, and of course the chipping of most of the inhabitants who stayed after Glimmer’s crew abandoned the place; but it was unlikely that the army of clones actually used it: they usually chose to sleep in the light vessels they came with. Like me, they deemed the place as too fancy. 

I do not have a very clear memory of the first few days after defeating Horde Prime. I recall seeing most of the clones retreating to their ships, some of them fleeing in messy ranks. The first time, I could not help but rejoice at the sight of these white bastards screaming from panic after what they have done to me; sometimes, they were even followed by a group of angry locals harassing them into going away. I saw a few savage acts that are still printed in my brain.   
But then, I recalled Wrong Hordak, and me, and how deep the brainwash could be. It made me pity them, and the victory started having a sour taste. Most of them escaped Etheria during the first days, and their fate was unknown, but a few did not make it to the ships and remained hidden in remote regions around the Fright Zone or any place conquered by the Horde. Only a handful were actually reached by Hordak and Wrong. I believe they left to Dryl with Entrapta, but their situation was not entirely clear when we all parted.   
The truth is that the first few days at Bright Moon were spent in a massive party, with everyone just coming and going to every place to rejoice with all the people they had ever known. Adora had always been the social one, so I saw a lot of faces I could hardly recall, although I am starting to get a grip on the most frequent names. The fact that I used to be an enemy was not much noticed in the confused collective euphoria of the moment: they saw Adora, hugged everyone, and drank for the victory before going back to their kingdoms, principalities or republics or whatever piece of land they lived in, for they were not only rulers but also farmers, commoners, nobles, artists, shopkeepers and thieves.   
It was a blessed oblivion, as I could not care much that she was sometimes stolen from me by a stranger, for she always took my hand again and came back to me and held me and kissed me. More than a few times, some old parent of a random princess cheered at the sight of every couple, and pushed us to drink with them at the health of our young love; and when all this frenzy became too much, we went to the bedroom and with her body against mine I was at the top of the world, and then I woke up in her arms after the only dreamless nights I have ever slept. It took a while for the steam to fall down, and some of its optimistic mindset stills fuels every Etherian heart when everyone, at their own pace, realises that our future is left to be invented. A future I never hoped I would be part of, but I was; and a future which I never expected people to actually want me to be part of, but here I was.   
And there comes this seventh morning, when Adora as usual wakes up long before me and cannot help but make herself busy. She has thus disappeared, and even Glimmer has not followed me in my late morning sleep. I am alone for the first time since our victory.


	2. Blood of an angel (POV Catra)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “What's done cannot be undone.”  
> ― William Shakespeare, Macbeth

At first I do not feel anything special, I just go on with my routine. I wash myself quickly, get dressed, yawn and stretch every limb. I guess I am to wander a little in the castle to find what my friends are now up to.

Friends. How strange this world feels when used about Sparkles and Hearty. How odd is the space they take in my head, without the pure hatred that used to fill it. I now found myself thinking about them and be happy. Yes, happy.

I walk in the corridor, but every place is alike in this castle, and the last days of party have blurred my thoughts, so after looking for my friends in the usual spots without finding them, I end up wandering in a remote room, somewhere in a lower floor. Like everything except private bedrooms, it is open to everyone and everything; this is not the Horde, public life is the norm. I am surprised by the relative sobriety of the place compared to what Bright Moon has used me to; even though the roof is high and the walls are engraved with complex patterns, it is mostly pale blue stone, with a dim light from small windows high above the floor. A few statues of the same material are scattered here and there, but it is mostly peaceful and empty. I pay a deeper attention to the carvings on the walls. Angular figures cover most of the surfaces, with scriptures, most of them in a language I cannot completely understand. Some of them are in common language though, and I decipher them as names, with the numbers next to them as their years life. Most of them surprise me as being ridiculously long, but they all come to an end eventually. Their stylised faces are peaceful, their eyes closed, their figure standing with their wings unfolded. I try to remember where I have seen such a being, when it hits me like a truck at full speed.

They are angelic, like the queen. I have seen her once, saving Adora and Glimmer from battle. I did not know her name, but she was exactly like this. I did not dare to ask what had become of her, and then I forgot about it in the general mayhem that followed our victory. Anxious to know more, I walk down the aisle until the last standing statue. The carvings here are more frank and detailed, they must be recent, and I can understand the writings, and the numbers in the years are bigger. They must have their own calendar. After the last statue, the carvings end: there is still space for more characters to come, but one of the last motives startle me. It is the Horde’s emblem, right next to a written text under the statue, the only object made in a stone still white from the mountain it was excavated in, and my heart shatters as I read.

_In loving memory of Queen ANGELLA, mother of Queen GLIMMER_

_3254 – 3568_

_She sacrificed herself to save us from the portal’s doom. She will be remembered for her wisdom, her love, and her courage._

_Thank you Angella, for staying behind._

The woman is standing, at least two feet taller than me. Her eyes are closed, her expression peaceful such as all her ancestors on the walls. Her wings are spread behind her. She is smiling faintly. My vision gets blurred from the tears as I am sent in what feels like a most ancient past on the other side of a glass, although it has not been a year since it happened.

Anger is flowing through every inch of myself, a pure rage. I want her gone, I want everything and everyone gone, I want not to kill the world, and she screams, she whines, but the pain invades me like a fire, the light burns deep into my eyes until I am blind, and all my darkness is in my hand.

I pulled the switch, and broke the world.

“ _You’ve made your choices. Now live with it!”_

I believed I could just not care. They were my enemies. They took my love away. I was to bleed them to death, so who cared what became of them? Then she fixed it, because she always did, and I was to start everything all over again. It seemed I would never really manage to harm any of them.

But then I remember her eyes when she got out of the portal, and I saw my own heart, my hate reflected in them, and I got scared. I had done something, I did not know what, I never knew, and she came back, and she forgave me, but I did not forget that day when I lost her forever.

For I have an angel’s blood on my hands.

I thought I had it. Happiness. Redemption. Love. But I can’t.

How could Glimmer even forgive me, I wonder immediately, but then I know: Adora never told her who opened the portal. It is impossible otherwise. She would never have forgiven me, and Bow neither.

And then I think about Adora. She knows. She knew all along that I was a murderer. Slowly, it poisons all my memories of us after the portal. Her hateful eyes come all the way over the words she said to me in the Heart of Etheria.

I love you too.

She loves me. I killed someone and she loves me. How come this pure heart can forgive me this?

I look at Angella’s statue and I can feel how much she is judging me. You killed me, little shit, and you were fooling around in genuine bliss, unaware of your unforgivable deed. How dared you be happy when I was lying in my grave? How dare you laugh when your hand made so many eyes cry? You are well punished now, for it is your tears flowing like thunder rain on your cheeks, and guilt will haunt you until the day you die.

I do not know how long I stayed there, sobbing uncontrollably as if she were my own mother. I will not speak about how heavy it was on my kitten’s heart, the endless turmoil with all the tragic accents I have already exposed to you.

Because I guess all you want to know is what happened when they finally found me there.

Glimmer looks at me, puzzled. I realise how odd the situation looks like: why I am crying on the tomb of her mother whom I barely knew? Bow is equally surprised.

Adora, on the other hand… just freezes. We exchange a look. Oh how have I learnt to read her for all this time. Don’t say anything, she silently mimes with her lips, however it is too late. Once I have started to walk the path of redemption, I cannot stop one lie away from a full blast.

“I am sorry...” I stutter. “I never knew…”

“Never knew what?” Glimmer asks with a muffled voice. She is herself on the edge to cry, probably moved by the sight of her mother’s statue. She looks at Adora, somehow expecting she would give her the key to decipher the situation.

“It was me...” is the only thing I manage to say.

She suddenly understands, and her eyes open wide with rage. She steps behind and raises a dramatical arm at Adora.

“You… you knew…”

“I am sorry, Glimmer” replies Adora. She is trying to stay calm, but is as on the edge as everyone.

“How could you… You lied to me… You left me believing it was Hordak all this time… you left us be friends, when it was her all along… How could you forgive her this? How…”

“It’s not her fault!” I scream. “Please Glimmer, let Adora out of all this.”

“SHUT UP, HORDE SCUM!”

  
She mechanically turns to me. Anger is contracting every muscle of her body, she is still shaking from it. There is a dead silence for a minute, and when she speaks again, her voice is blank, like a judge.

“Out of my home. Now.”

I am paralysed, and do not bat an ear. I cannot believe what is happening right now. Adora tries to reason with her.

“She did not want Angella to die… Please, Glimmer…”

“I SAID OUT!’

Nice try, Adora, but you know like me that I wanted every last one of you to die at that time. I fully deserve Glimmer’s anger, and I may even punish myself more than she will.


	3. Plumeria (POV Catra)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “O sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams  
> That bring to my remembrance from what state I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere.”  
> ― John Milton, Paradise Lost

I pack my few things in silence. Adora looks at me without saying a word. I realise I do not own much. I gave all of myself to Adora, and now I am alone with my guilt.

Then, still silent, Adora walks to her bed and starts gathering her things. I look at her in bewilderment.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I am coming with you.” she retorts. “No no no” she adds when she sees me open my mouth to try and talk her out of it. “It’s not up to discussion.”

I know it is not. I lower my head and go back to packing. It all fits in my old backpack. Her stuff is about the same size as mine. Melog lets out a concerned growl. I pet them on the head.

“We have to leave, Melog.” I say.

  
Out in the corridor, we meet with a guard who must be there to make sure I will follow the queen’s orders. She is followed by Bow, who rushes to Adora with puppy eyes.

“Why are you leaving, Adora?” he says with a desperate tone. “She did not mean what she said to you… I am sure she can forgive you…” but she cuts him off:

“I am staying with Catra. Sorry Bow, but we’re a package deal.”

Another figure appears behind. Apparently King Mycah heard of the rant. It is like he was about to say something, but just sighs, thinking it again. He looks upset, but still calmer than the queen. He just looks at me with judging eyes, but it hurts just as much, even from someone who is almost a stranger to me. Adora takes my hand.

Finally, once we are at the door of the castle, Glimmer confronts us one last time.

“So you are siding with her. Nice.” Glimmer snorts. She has the puffiest eyes. “After all, my mother’s death isn’t such a big deal compared to the life of this Horde scum.”

I just cannot stand her speaking like that to Adora and am on the edge of replying something but Adora pulls my arm.

“Let’s just leave” she says, a sob in the throat.

She took my hand and started to walk, fast, to a small roofless transport craft. We boarded with Melog, and she closed the door behind the three of us. I could not read her expression and was just so scared I would say anything to make her angry that I just curled at the back of the craft, Melog huddled against my chest. After a long hour, the engine stops, and I dare getting my head above the craft’s edge.

The landscape has not changed much; we are still in the woods, but they are a little different, with lighter colours and a warmer light coming through their leaves. Amid this jungle, we stand at the border of a middle-sized village. In the middle of it stands the most glorious tree I have ever seen: all shades of brown paint its wood, and all the greens, yellows and reds tint its leaves. I can hear the sound of multiple birds singing in it in joy of their privilege to sit on its branches. It is large and it is old, I can sense it; but unlike the First Ones technologies we unveiled, it is not a sealed artefact of technology that was dormant for centuries and just got teleported in our times. This tree lived every minute of the thousand years it has been around; time has wrinkled it, and carved its mark on it. It grew.

At the bottom of the trunk, there is what I understand to be one of the five Runestones Adora told me about. This one is different than the Moonstone; it is of dark pink, and a little irregular, worn like its home tree, and slightly hidden by a few roots that are surrounding it, as if the tree was very slowly swallowing it.

It is the middle of the afternoon, and some inhabitants are already at their door as they ought to have heard the sound of our vessel.

Perfuma’s kindgom.

* * *

At last the princess of the place gets out of one of the houses. Unlike Brightmoon’s queen, her home is very similar to the ones of her subjects. It is not even the biggest house, and it is as well kept as every other place. She looks happy to see us, for she surely has no clue of what happened with Glimmer.

“Adora, Catra, how nice from you to come and visit! Do you want a drink? Some food? I was having a little meeting with one of our architects to see the reconstruction of some houses affected by the war, but we were almost finished.”

Adora answers to her greeting. Indeed, two men and a woman get out behind her, looking concerned. They share some features with her and the rest of the village: an undertone of pink in their various shades of skin, and facial tattoos on the cheeks that look more or less like freckles. Most of their clothes are made of raw vegetal elements and they do not cover a lot. She chats a little with them, and warmly sends them off. There is a table outside, which is probably public as nothing indicates there is something like a private garden, or even private proprety. I feel awkward at first, but the other villagers, after seeing we were friendly, stopped listening and went back to their own business. She draws some glasses and pours a light brown liquid in them.

Adora sits, and I do the same. As she serves us, Perfuma keeps small talking:

“… I am surprised to see you around so soon. I thought you would stay at Brightmoon to help Glimmer repair her kingdom. Or maybe it is already finished? I have no idea. We are not rushing it here; there was little damage, and we are so busy with the harvest these days…”

“We had a fight with Glimmer.” Adora drops. Perfuma raises her eyebrows.

“A fight? With Glimmer? How?” she replies.

For the first time after I have seen Angella in the cemetery, Adora looks at me, but I am unable to maintain eye contact.

“Do you want me to tell her?” she whispers. I shake my head and just end it.

“I’m the one responsible for what happened to Angella.”

Perfuma puts her hands on her mouth but I do not pay real attention to her. It feels good to say it out loud, without fear, to clear the water once and for all.

“I pulled the switch that opened the portal made by Hordak. And she sacrificed herself to close it.”

Perfuma frowns. I can see that her field is rather plants and orchards than dimensional physics, so Adora steps forward to explain while I drink the infusion she served us to contain my sobs.

“The portal Angella stayed behind for it to be closed. It was opened from the Fright Zone, but it was not Hordak who pulled the switch.”

It was me. And now I will have to live with it.

Perfuma finishes her tea in silence, her eyes closed, as if she was meditating.

“What happened to Angella, after she went through the portal?” she finally said.

Adora frowned, and Perfuma explained:

“You never said she died. Entrapta never said the person who stayed behind would be dead. And there is one thing I learnt from the mystery books Mermista lent me: never believe in something without evidence.”

I cannot help but laugh. There is a limit to my ability to handle stupidity, and in my current state of mind it is quite low.

“So she would have survived, alone, between two dimensions, in space? What a relief! She must be very happy there, planting dimensional flowers into her dimensional garden!”

“Catra! This is no matter of joke!”

“EXACTLY!”

Without knowing how, I am standing and shouting. Adora tries to take my hand, but I reject her.

“Stop dreaming, Adora! With all of what I have done to you guys, I am even amazed Angella is the only casualty. The peace was always to be a fragile one. It’s better now than never, before I have the time to get too attached.”

What a liar. I was already attached. I had already started to believe in the future. But maybe if I start soon enough to grow it back, the shell of iron will one day be strong enough to stop the pain.

“Your friends hate me and they are right. I _am_ bringing you down. Go back to Brightmoon, maybe Glimmer can forgive you, but me… I am a lost cause, Adora.”

  
Suddenly, Adora is standing again, in full She Ra, and holds me against her so tight I have a hard time breathing.

“I have lost you for too long. I refuse to let it happen again.”

She releases me a little, cups my face and kisses me. It feels good to just abandon myself in her arms like this. For a second it drives the pain away.

“Maybe Angella is dead. Maybe she is stuck in another dimension. Maybe we will bring her back. Maybe we won’t. Maybe Glimmer will never forgive you. But just for once, I don’t care. I. Don’t. Care. Too many times I have been asked to choose between you and the world, so for once, I choose you.”

She strokes my short hair and I notice she is herself again. I open my eyes, and catch a brief sight of Perfuma rejoicing behind us.

“You can stay over for as long as you want until you figure out what to do," she says cheerfully. 

I smile faintly and stutter a small “Thank you, Perfuma.” She beams.

“By the way, Catra, my proposition from last time still holds, if you want!”

I let out an uneasy laugh. I might be ready for it, still.


	4. Dryl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable.  
> There is another theory which states that this has already happened."  
> — Douglas Adams, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe

“… you can now start to breath normally again, and open your eyes when you feel ready.”

A few mornings after, Catra is sitting on Perfuma’s meditation carpet. I have no clue how she managed to convince her, but if it helps her be better, then why not. I grab our things and set myself to leave.

Perfuma has been incredible during our stay. Of course we helped a little with the harvest: I was so happy to see Catra enjoy the smile of the villagers when she proved very efficient at lifting a broken cart or ripping open a stuck wooden barrel. I want her so much to understand how good this life is, and how the only thing I want to think about is her head on my chest when we both fall asleep after a day of tedious work.

But our stay has to end eventually, and we have known for a while that our next stop in this impossible quest is Entrapta’s lair. So we fill the tank of our small vessel, say goodbye, and head to Dryl.

Catra is much more silent than she used to be. She is petting Melog, and whatever she is thinking, she keeps it to herself. I hate to see her like this. If only I could carry the burden of her crimes myself, but she does not wish to share them with me.

The journey to Dryl is longer than from Brightmoon to Plumeria so I put the roof on after a moment. A little before we arrive at the mountains surrounding Dryl, I feel Catra stand up and reach for my hand. I pull the speed regulator and take her palm in mine.

“Thank you” she mumbles.

I glance at her quickly before turning my eyes back at the path. She is not looking at me. I can feel her heart pounding in her hand. She leans her head on my shoulder. I pull the brakes and decide to land for a minute. She comes and sit in my lap, and begins to purr as I kiss her on the forehead.

“I am sorry to put you through this when you deserve rest so much.”

“It is all right” I reply. “I choose to come with you, kitty cat.”

“The truth is...” she sighs deeply. “I am scared. I don’t want to hope for salvation and then end up being guilty again. What will happen if Angella is really dead, like everyone else is thinking? If I have to get used to be a murderer, I’d rather start early.”

The truth is, I loved Angella. I did not know her for long, but she felt closer to a mother to me than Shadow Weaver ever did. So of course there was a time I was angry at Catra for pulling the switch. But now that I see her in my arms, I want to think that she was not understanding what she did, that more than destroying the world, it was herself she wanted to kill. For I want to think deep down that the person I loved all my life cannot be evil.

“Whatever happens, I have already forgiven you.” I say.

She does not answer. I think she does not believe me yet, for I know deep down the hardest thing will not be for Glimmer to forgive her, but for Catra to forgive herself.

* * *

We arrive at Dryl around noon. The atmosphere is much more animated than the last time I set foot in the place. The Crypto Castle is full of all sorts of people, and when I ask where Princess Entrapta is, a green-skinned young person leads me through a corridor. I can see they are equipped with a small tablet that they check on a regular basis. Our guide explains that all of Dryl administrators are entrusted with a guide for the castle’s corridors.

We finally reach one of Entrapta’s lab. She is wearing her protective helmet, and is slightly turning her back at us. When the guide announces us, she puts a final touch to whatever she is doing, switches her log off and comes to hug us… with her soldering iron still in her hands.

“Wow, careful!” I shriek. She notices her mistake, goes “woops” and puts it back. Around her, a bunch of half-dismantled robots are waiting to be repaired.

“Hey, Entrapta, what are all these people doing in the Crypto Castle?”

“This?” she exclaims with an enthusiastic voice. “Isn’t it amazing? A delegation from the people of Dryl came to me to ask for a redistribution of power in the city. They want a republic, and since part of their housing was destroyed, they were wondering if some of the new government could be settled in the castle. I said that as long as they leave me my labs and provide some tiny food, I would be glad to help in any way I can. So here we are.”

So she glided through a revolution, just like that. I was expecting something crazy, I am not disappointed.

“Trapt’, we’re glad you are having a good time and all, but we actually came for some questions!” Catra says.

“Sure! Oh, I remember, when having guests one must offer some food and drinks. I tried molecular recipes and I need to try it on a representative sample of population before I make it part of my diet. Here, help yourselves.”

She hands us a platter with small greyish blobs that kind of remind me of Horde rations if one had the idea to chew them and spit them before forming pieces again. I pick one and swallow if fast.

“Mmh, very good.”

It stings like all hells, but I do not want Entrapta to be upset so I swallow the tear of heat and repress my urge to drink something. I turn to Catra, who just looks terrified. She picks one of the blobs between her fingers and carefully smells it. Entrapta stopped paying attention, which leaves her enough space to whisper to me:

“Adora, I can’t eat that!”

“Come on Catra, be nice! She’s your friend!”

“But it’s awful!”

Suddenly, Entrapta remember our presence, and turn back at us with her big eyes staring eagerly.

“So Catra, you like it?” she asks.

“Hmm...”

Reluctanly, my cat love puts the blob in her mouth. She is truly a sketch to remember: eyes pressed shut, frowned eyebrows and a face of cartoons. She swallows loudly, gasps for air and cough.

“It… it’s excellent…”

Her face says so much otherwise that I cannot help but burst out of laughter. Catra is terribly vexed, which makes her look so cute I cannot help kiss her either.

Entrapta is either oblivious to the situation or choose to ignore it, because she just say:

“Cool, I was afraid I had put too much piperine in it. So, what was it you wanted to know?”

The atmosphere turns serious again. For a minute I think we both forgot what we were here for, but it comes to hit right in our faces. I see Catra blush from something that is not the burn of the experimental cakes we tried. I suddenly remember that this whole portal business points at another painful spot around Entrapta’s role in the story. I therefore decide to step forward and expose the case myself.

“Do you remember what happened when the portal was opened? When you told us someone had to stay to close it?”

Entrapta’s face darken a little. She might be a little beside on some matters, but she is quick to understand.

“I remember, yeah…” she starts. “So someone stayed behind…”

“Yeah” I say. “Someone did, and we want to know what could have happened to them...”

I am hanged at her lips, expecting she will provide an answer, a hope, but her words put an end to our wishes.

“I am afraid I do not know that.”

She looks so disappointed I feel sorry I asked the question. But if she does not know, then it is over.

“But isn’t there any way we could reach her and bring her back? Or even poke in this inter dimensional shit and just know, at least!” Catra yells.

“I don’t know” repeats Entrapta, slightly annoyed by her insisting like this on something she clearly was frustrated about. Her face lightens then suddlenly. “But Hordak might know more about it! You can ask him!”

The joy with which she says his name is still weird to me but to see her so happy is nice.

“So where is he?” I ask.

“Oh, you know, he likes doing his own thing” she replies. “He is probably in his own lab, at the White Haven. It’s in the valley on the other side of the Dryl Mountains.”

  
The White Haven? I have never heard of this place before. From what she says, it is located in the former Fright Zone Territory – and maybe one of the biggest citadels, if I trust my memories of Force Captain orientation. I look at Catra. She does not seem thrilled by the whole idea, but she still nods and even shows every sign of wanting to leave as soon as possible. We say a quick goodbye to Entrapta and politely decline her offer to take away a few of her lump cakes with us.

“We don’t want to deprive you of such a delight,” Catra says with a polite voice that make me use all my strength not to laugh out loud.

“Your such a prick sometimes” I say to her when we walk in the vessel. “You know she does not get sarcasm.”

“It wasn’t sarcasm!” she argues. “I was trying to be nice.”

“Yeah sure.”

She blows a raspberry at me and closes the door of the pod behind her, before sitting on the pilot’s seat. From behind, I can see her delicate and sensual neck slowly rising from the collar of her shirt, with the two sharp lines of her cropped nape joining in a single point like an arrow of desire, and then an invisible line goes down to the small scar in the shape of a sun that she so often reaches with her hand when she feels awkward. I carefully brush my finger over it, and I see her blush it the reflection of the window.

“Everything is going to be fine” I whisper. “I’m with you.”

She gives me a poor smile, and starts the engine.


	5. White Haven (POV Catra)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I don't understand?   
> Are you kidding? Me? Of course I understand.  
> I mean, do you call this a war, this funny little thing?   
> This is not a war.   
> I fought in a bigger war than you will ever know.   
> I did worse things than you could ever imagine, and when I close my eyes... I hear more screams than anyone could ever be able to count!   
> And do you know what you do with all that pain?   
> Shall I tell you where you put it?   
> You hold it tight... Til it burns your hand. And you say this: no one else will ever have to live like this. No one else will ever have to feel this pain.
> 
> Not on my watch.” 
> 
> The Twelfth Doctor, Doctor Who (The Zygon Inversion)

The White Haven is settled in a former Horde outpost I have visited before, however it has changed a lot since. The place has been stripped of all its war instruments, such as canons or wires. The door itself is not closed, and has been painted in white. A few graffiti sprouted at the bottom of the surrounding walls. As we get closer, we meet the last type of people we expected, though if we had thought about it a little it should have occurred to our stupid minds: the clones. Most of them are still expressionless and wear the same outfit they used in Horde Prime’s army, which stresses me a little at the beginning. What if Hordak has been recruiting his brothers to raise another army? But they do not seem to be hostile as we reach the door, and I notice they sport few differences between each other: a different hair colour, a piece of clothes, a pair of shoes, and once or twice a whole look… I park the pod next to the door, and we push it to enter the inner yard. Here awaits a vision of much more amazement for us: several clones, all like the different drafts of the same model, having all kinds of business: some reading, playing, cleaning, chatting, or just chilling it the late afternoon shadow.

“Our white skin is very sensitive to the sun” I hear a familiar voice say. “So most of our siblings stay in the yard during the shiniest hours of the day.”

The man standing before me makes me wince against my will, for I know if there is one who is harmless here, it is him. He has not changed a lot of his appearance compared to what some of his kind had achieved in a shorter time. He still sported the white hair and green eyes, with light-coloured civil clothes and an apron on which was pinned his name: “Wrong”; but what makes him so different is his facial expressions: he does not look paralysed like the others, but rather calm and soft.

“Hello, hem, Wrong Hordak” Adora says.

“I just go by Wrong now” he replies, “To remember that everything we used to believe was wrong, and that it is our duty to look everyday for the light of truth.”

I cannot help but let out a sardonic “Okaaaayyy” but Adora nudges me quickly.

“Welcome to White Haven, by the way” he adds. “As you can see, me, my brother Hordak and a few amazing volunteers have built this place as a refuge for us clones.”

“They are more of them than I thought” Adora says.

“A lot of my siblings have run away, it is true” he sighs. “But they often applied the rules of optimisation set by Prime when in a rush, and thus almost always left the last clones of a division behind, deeming it was too much time to waste for too few of ours. After all, we learnt all our life to see ourselves as expendable.”

I would have felt sorry for them if all these clones faces did not make me sick at heart. It raised some memories I would rather bury deep down. I take Adora’s hand and for a minute I feel a little better.

“We came to see Hordak.” Adora says. She seems to have understand my signal. Wrong blinks.

“I understand. I will show you to his lab.”

He blinks, and turn around. We follow him through the facility. He strikes me as being on the talkative side. Adora seems to listen quite carefully, but I honestly just do my best not to faint. I know that I should feel reassured to see how different this place is from Horde Prime’s ship, and that the clones are victims just like me of this almighty devil, but I cannot help being triggered by the endless repetition of my tormentor’s face.

“… We settled here with a few of my brothers I managed to convince quite early, and rescued the others gradually. We try to make this place as friendly as possible for every sibling, and to help them on their journey of self-discovery. Volunteers from Etheria are of great importance, as they show my siblings that the world is more diverse than just our lot. Everyone is encouraged to express themself as much as they want, to feel free to do anything that pleases them, as long as it hurts no one else, and to search for their truth by any means. A couple of them even left to try explore Etheria further.”

As he says that, we pass by a small facility inside the Haven. From its door we see the only Etherian we met there pushing a clone sitting in a wheelchair. The whole vision reeks from its sadness and morbidity. As we walk, I hear a shriek go out of the place. Wrong’s expression saddens.

“Unfortunately, a few of my brothers are not supporting Horde Prime’s death and disconnection to the hive mind. We try to take care of them as much as possible, but it is not always easy… a few of them even chose to… disappear. Finally” he says as we glide before another structure, completely white with its only door being so well adjusted it is almost invisible, “some brothers stay sane, but find it more reassuring to keep living according to the ways set by Horde Prime. We agreed to let them stay, as long as they don’t bother anyone else. We check regularly that they are no threat to anyone else.”

I swallow hard. At last, Adora notices something is wrong with me. I feel her arm around my waist just as I feel my legs slipping under me. I close my eyes for a second, and when I open them again, she is holding me against her, and Wrong is looking at us with a concerned face.

“I think it is a lot to handle right now” she says to him. “Do you want to go back in the pod for a minute, kitty-cat?”

“I’m fine” I instinctively reply, brushing my face a little with my hand. “Let’s see Hordak and get this over with.”

I drag myself out of Adora’s embrace, and carry the rest of the journey to Hordak’s lab without looking around, like a robot. It is a little remote from the rest of the facility, probably because Hordak’s experiences, like Entrapta’s, are not always completely safe for the world around him.

How odd it is to face the man I used to see as my master for so long now. It seems a century has passed since then, and yet here we are, like two sides of the same coin, the one who regrets, and the one who forgets, though his voice still gives me the creeps when he says my name as he turns around to speak to us.

“Hello, former Force Captains. What owes me the pleasure of such a visit?”

“We want to know what you can tell us about dimensional portals.”

Adora still has a drop of anger in her voice. I guess no forgiveness can be perfect. He does not seem to mind it too much though, for I suppose as usual his main goal is to get it over with before turning back to whatever science he is up to. On this matter Entrapta really found her matching sock.

Hordak looks at her deeply, and then turns to me. His smile is still scary.

“I see. And what is it you want to know?”

“When we...” I start, “well, when I… opened the portal you built last time… someone stayed behind to close it.”

“I know.” he mysteriously replies. “And I guess you want to retrieve them from there.”

I must owe him one thing: he is quick-witted. Old and probably a little mad now, but still sharp.

“There were many unusual things about this portal, but I guess I can use a little of my precious time to explain it to lower brains forms like you; I owe at least that to my dear Entrapta.”

Still passive-aggressive as always. The loss of power made him turn from straight threats to Shadow-Weaver-style bickering.

“A portal is a rip is the fabric of space and time. It allows one to travel from one dimension from the other. Imagine every dimension like a universe of their own, like bubbles in a massive foam. Despondos was a very small bubble stuck to a bigger one that is this universe. The portal opened a hole in the membrane between the two bubbles, but this membrane was very fragile, which made the portal very unstable. This universe was big enough to stand the rip, but Despondos was not, and it disappeared.”

“But… we only left Despondos after activation of the Heart of Etheria!” Adora says. “At least that is what Entrapta said.”

“It was not Despondos, or at least not in the state it was before the portal opened. Since my message reached Horde Prime, I can say that for a very short moment at least, Despondos fused with this universe. Closing the portal afterwards might have created another pocket universe that was essentially composed of elements that were also part of Despondos. A Despondos 2.0 dimension, if you prefer, that was so similar to Despondos we actually did not see the difference. And it is this dimension that fused with this universe at the activation of the Heart of Etheria.”

“It does not make any difference if it was Despondos or Despondos 2.0 that fused with this bigger universe” I sneer. “At least, not on the problem at hands.”

“This is where you are wrong, cat.” he retorts. “See, it was the subject of many of our conversations with Entrapta since the end of the war, and from what she told me, you have memories of a sort of parallel universe that was created by the portal instability. Despondos sort of split into two: the alternate reality, and the one you came back in. I therefore assumed that this new dimension was just a short-lived consequence of the portal, and that it stood between Despondos and this universe for a few hours before it quickly fused again with Despondos, leaving the portal open. But what I did not understand was that: how did you close the portal? If the alternate reality had completely been dissolved in Despondos, nothing was standing between us and the universe. And the portal was closed behind you, so it could only be somebody from outside of Despondos that separated us from this universe again. Which means this person can only be… in this universe.”

Adora and I gasp from surprise. So Angella was not stuck between dimensions, she was there, somewhere to be found…

“Now the universe is huge, and she would have needed oxygen to survive in empty space until she reached another planet.”

I have the horrible vision of this woman’s corpse floating among the stars, drifting for eternity. Angella was an immortal being, but still, she was probably not able to survive asphyxia or the void. There was a one out of a million chances that she actually managed to reach a survivable world. And even if she did, where would we start our researches? This was not Despondos but a whole universe, with a thousand stars and a thousand worlds, and we were looking for one being without even being sure that she was alive and… I was getting a headache from all this. The White Haven, parallel universes, dwelling in the past in such a short amount of time was too much for me to process. I turn back my feet and leave to sit outside of the lab, in the soft light of the descending sun. Melog comes to me and starts to nudge me with their nose. I stroke them absent-mindedly.

Adora follows me a few minutes later. She sits by me, and takes my hands in hers. For a few moments, we say nothing. I know how she is: if there is a slight possibility for Angella to be alive, she is willing to try anything to find her. I am not that hopeful. Not that I am not willing to follow my lover at the other end of the universe: I would, but I am scared of what I will find out in this journey, of losing the hope that has carried me all the way from her statue in Brightmoon to the deep darkness of my memories.

“The sun is setting soon” says Adora. “Wrong suggested we sleep at the Haven...”

“No.”

She opens wide eyes, surprised by such a brutal answer.

“I am sorry. Wrong is an excellent fellow, but I just can’t. Not here. I rather sleep in our vehicle, or drive all the way back to Dryl rather than staying in this place.”

I run my hand through my hair, and close my eyes to get rid of the thoughts rising in my stomach. The clones, the repetition of this face… It triggers too many things I want to forget. Adora puts her arm around my waist once again, and quickly decline’s Wrong’s proposal.


	6. A confession to the light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “No masters or kings when the ritual begins  
> There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin  
> In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene  
> Only then I am human  
> Only then I am clean.”  
> Hozier, “Take me to church” 
> 
> Writer's note: I did not want to make Catra's coming out as transmasculine the centre of the story, so please don't come at me like "hey it comes from nowhere and has no point in the plot and the character is supposed to be female and you are erasing lesbian identity." I think She-Ra tells us to love and be who you want and that gender has no relevance.   
> And the character is still lesbian so no worries.

We drive a few miles with the pod before we settle in a small spot protected from a few trees that were able to grow here against all odds. The night is quite warm for the season, and the weather is quite dry. We unpack a few fruits we gathered from Plumeria and eat in silence, before settling a makeshift bed at the back, inside the pod (bed that Melog instantly sits on to claim it as propriety). I have seen her undress and put her pyjamas on a thousand of times already, but this time is different, for we are different. I try not to look too much but still want to look. She notices it, giggles softly and lies down at my side, wrapping me in her arms.

“You are nervous, kitty cat,” she soughs.

“Wouldn’t you if you were me?” I reply dryly. She blushes. I regret my word immediately. “Sorry. I am not in the best place right now.”

I lift myself a little and kiss her on the lips. “I love you.”

There is another long silence. I try to purr a little, to relax, to put into practise what Perfuma taught me, but it is so hard… My head is full of repressed memories I believed to be buried.

* * *

_The green light and the white structures are blinding. Around me there is only this endless succession of white zombies, pale copies of the same evil that is standing in the middle. They tied me up, I am helpless and scared and refuse to let go. So I close my eyes and just pray Adora._

_I pray Adora to be sensible enough to leave me behind. I pray Glimmer to be safe right now. I picture her between her and Arrow Boy. They are happy._

_Please Adora, leave me here and be happy._

“ _At least you came to your senses, little sister,” says Horde Prime._

“ _Please, just_ _do it.” I m_ _utter_ _._

_The truth is, part of me want it to happen. Such a bliss it would be, just letting go of all of it. The anger, the pain, the guilt. Especially the guilt. Finally being perfectly part of something. To stop asking yourself if you made the right choice, because the choice would always be taken for me. It is so scary but at the same time so appealing. To accept all the wrongs I ever did, and be able to wear them off, to drop responsibility._

_One of the clones draws a pair of scissors. The tool seems so out of place here, so rough and rustic in this spotless and high-tech atmosphere. He grabs my mane._

_SCHALCK!_

_I am crying. There is no way I can go back now. The minute after, the worst pain ever pierces my neck, and I shriek, but it disappears instantly._

_They take me and lead me to the pool. I am terrified and my breath turns short, but somehow I am also relieved. How pathetic it is! All my life I wanted to become the perfect Horde soldier, and when I am finally given the opportunity, I would reject it? This is my crew after all; I am the Horde scum who destroys everything my hands reach._

_I lie in the pool, slowly. First my legs, and then my back. He is above me, looking at me, and my hands are the last thing I see. The water fills my lungs, and I try to scream._

* * *

I wake up sweating and gasping for air. Adora is looking at me, worried, a small wet cloth in her hand, and Melog is licking my foot. I cannot help but purr of relief when I see her. She strokes my forehead gently, and gives me a glass of water. I drink it slowly and huddle against her.

Only there I am safe, and yet so many things could make me lose her… And yet she is still there, holding me. I manage to calm down, and slow down my breath.

“Can we talk a little, Adora?” I say. “Please.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“It’s just…” (where can I start). “I don’t know if it is important. I don’t want to be a burden more than I am already. And I don’t even know if you are still going to love me after this. I had buried it a long time ago, but after they cut my hair, and I felt so much better somehow, and with all we saw, all this… masculinity… I…”

“Stop messing around, you sound like Entrapta for I don’t have a clue of what you are speaking about. What’s wrong?” she yawns.

“I think I am more of a he.”

Here it is. I dropped it. All the ill-comfort of several years, all the attempts to make everybody forget I was ever feminine, and all the fear of her to stop loving me if I turned out to be too masculine. And then there was the matter of the Rebels… I did not know how welcome would I be among all these princesses, all the glitter and the girly that is so not for me but that I still want to be with.

“A he… like… a boy-he? Is this what you mean?”

I sigh. “Yeah dumbass, I’m not talking about the letter E.”

“But why didn’t you talk about it sooner? I would have started to gender you correctly!”

“I don’t know okay! I just...” I pause for a second. Damn, this is hard. “I was afraid if I changed you would stop liking me, that you would rather be with a girl you know… I did not want to impose you this…”

She blinks several times, puzzled. “My girlfriend is a he.”

“I always felt ridiculous about it.” I add. “You were such a better warrior than me.”

She frowns. “I don’t see what this has to do with anything.”

She makes me sigh again at the insane amount of her innocence but it feels much more comforting than I expected.

“And so you’re still Catra? I mean you know like...”

“Yeah. I like my name. Especially in your mouth.” And to add action to the word, I kiss her again.

“Maybe you could add an H. Like in Mycah’s name. You know, to remember that you are a hhheeee, not an E.”

“Oh, shut up!”

I punch her with my sheet. She replies with a pillow blow, and before we know, we start such a pillow fight that some feathers start flying. Melog jumps in the middle of us and adds their own paws to the party, and I laugh, she laughs, until we grow tired and lean on the pod’s floor.

“I love you, CatraH” she says, spitting the H with all her strength.

I answer by a last punch with my pillow, and I hear a muffled giggle under it. I put the sheets over me and the pillow back in place, but there is no better space for my head than her chest.

* * *

We leave White Haven the day after. This place would stay for a while in my mind as the bleakest spot of all Etheria. An asylum for the broken, a place to mend the ugliest deepest scars left by Horde Prime, and where selfless souls are ready to help even though it means digging in their own pain at a moment when everyone else would rather forget. No war is clean, but some sufferings are more acceptable than others. Who will take care of the fallen warrior, the trash of an era that peace would like to expurge, member of an army who murdered your family, abandoned by his master, when all the things that used to define him are dead? No one except some pure innocent souls who do not bring the light, but rather try to dig it in every heart, and I am every day glad to have one of these all for myself.


	7. Wings in the sky [Multiple POV]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “All men have stars, but they are not the same things for different people. […] But all these stars are silent. You- You alone will have stars as no one else has them... In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars will be laughing when you look at the sky at night..You, only you, will have stars that can laugh!   
> Antoine of Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

[POV Glimmer]

“So what now?”

It had been more than a week since Adora and Catra left. The last few days I had buried myself in my work as a ruler, just so it would help me forget. Bow follows me like a shadow, and says nothing though I know he does not think less about it.

At the beginning I was just blinded by anger. How could they betray me like that? The more times passed though, and I was the one who was feeling guilty. I forgave my mother’s murderer, I gave her a roof, and my food, and my help. I remember the first meal we shared, on the ship, and how her wicked hands grabbed the meal I made.

How I said I used to make them with my mother.

At the same time, I think of this little cat face, of Adora’s pain, of Bow’s silence.

Am I being the bad guy now, not able to forgive someone who was willing to die to save me, ready to break up friendships over grief? Do I owe her an apology for being so mean?

My father does not say a thing. He goes regularly to Mystacor, to help them rebuilt the sanctuary, but I know the real reason he goes there is the same as mine: to avoid talking about it.

Now Bow drops the question as if I was to take a decision now, but I did not want to take a decision! I wanted to be angry, forever.

* * *

[POV Bow]

“You know, I always wondered why the Horde’s logo had wings”.

Swift Wind and his existential questions he feels obliged to ask at the right moment. We are having a drink at Elberon when he raises this one.

“I see it all the time now that I am helping the workers to rebuilt Brightmoon city – against better rights for horses, of course, we have a deal – so it has been obsessing me a little…”

I must admit I am not in the mood, but I do not want to vex him so I let him say his thing.

“I mean, first I thought Hordak had wings, but he does not. So I hoped it would be Horde Prime, but it turns out he does not have wings either! I does not make any sense, right?”

“Maybe it’s symbolic” I reply after I empty my drink. “The wings of conquest, or something like that. Can we… talk about something else?”

“As you wish, pretty boy! But still, it bother me.”

He is right, in a way. Why someone who has not even the slightest hint of wings would create such a symbol to be recognised? The dude was so narcissistic it could not be a tribute to someone else. Or maybe he used to have wings but they fell for he was not using them enough? Even for Horde Prime, it is gross.

“You should stop thinking about such things” I say to Swifty. “He’s gone now, and it all that matters.”

* * *

I come back to a grumpy Glimmer. The room’s atmosphere is so heavy I nearly choke. I try to hug her but she pushes me away. Another dweller on the past.

“You need to stop thinking about it.” I say, trying to lift her up. “At least for now. It is poisoning you.”

She does not reply, but teleport from the couch to her bed, without changing position. I understand that tonight is another hopeless night, and get out. I need some fresh air, and head up to the Hidden Library, for sometimes all a boy needs is his dads.

I find them reading and writing at their desk, as usual. It is late, but they are still awake. Lance is the one to open to me, and they both come to hug me.

“Bow, what a surprise!” George says. “What owes us the pleasure to see you so soon? I thought you’d still be helping Glimmer.”

“It’s just… there is something we disagree about. But it’s no big deal” I add immediately after seeing Lance’s concerned face. “Please don’t worry!”

Before their insistence on the matter, I proceed to expose the matter at hands, though I stay very vague over the “thing” that made Glimmer mad at Catra. Things are complicated enough.

“I see” says George. “I don’t know your other friend too well – Catra, you said? - but I met Glimmer, and she seemed to be caring a lot about you and Adora. And I think, you know… sometimes the more you love someone, the harder it is to forgive them.”

Saying so, he hands me a cup of tea that soothes me a little. I guess he is right though it does not help me having much hope in reconciliation.

As I try to think about something else, I scope through one of my dads’ desk and I see the title of one of their papers. My heart jolts.

_The Horde – a complete sum of our knowledge about them to this day_

“George? Lance? Is this really your new subject of research?”

Lance looks at me with enthusiast eyes.

“Of course! It is very important to collect as much information now, before people forget. Memory is a tricky thing.”

“I understand -” I reply, “but, like… this title? It sounds like you are making them heroes or something.”

“Oh” says George, a little disappointed, “Sorry. We did not mean it like that. It’s just… we made a lot of discoveries about them, not only their role during the war, but also about their species in general. Wrong’s testimony has been particularly interesting. They have their own culture, you know, despite them being all identical. Especially a myth of creation I find particularly interesting.”

I raise my eyebrows. When they are like this, I know it is not possible to extract them from their lunacy. Also, I could use a come back to my childhood, when my dads told me all the myths of the First Ones and peopled my dreams with mighty warriors and amazing sorcerers. I take a shower, eat a piece and sit again to listen to the tale.

* * *

_Once upon a time, there was a planet called Alpha, which was peopled with extraordinary beings. Their skin was of all colours of the world, their hair flowed in the air like beams of rainbow sunlight, and they had the biggest wings one has ever seen in the universe. This people lived in harmony with their environment at first, but as time went, they grew proud. Everyone of them wanted to show how prettier than the other they were. They developed words to name each other, complicated words that were hard to remember, and grew angry if the right word was not used. The natural colours of their bodies was not enough, they started painting it with what they found around them. They formed groups, communities that had their own codes. They did useless things like playing, they told tales of things that did not happen just to pass the time. They drowned in the pleasures of love and lust with each other without looking for efficiency and productivity, like kisses and hugs._

_For their greatest power was also their greatest curse: they were immortals, so they had no hurry to dwell in anything, therefore their magnificence became decay, and decay became sin._

_But their God who was not having it. He tried to warn them, of course, for he was merciful._

_When he said to his fellow people that they needed to reproduce, they replied that there was enough of them already._

_When he was warning them to earn money, they said they already had enough to live and did not need to work more than needed._

_When he showed them the dangers of fiction to stop seeing the truth, they answered that it was just for leisure and that everyone knew how to tell apart the two._

_And finally, when he told them how dangerous was the endless bickering about their differences and trial to show their singularity, they pushed him away, saying he was intolerant._

_So he waited for them to understand by themselves, but they did not stop, and he saw with despair the people he guided reject his own authority, his own word. And they did then the one thing he forbade them to do: they tried to go against the laws of nature. They tried magic._

_And so he decided to punish them._

_To strip them of their pride, he decided to cut off their wings._

_To erase all their quarrels about identity, he made them forget their names, and cropped their hair short, gave them all the same face, which was his._

_To make them understand the price of beauty, he turned them all white, and forbade them to ever smile again._

_To avoid any distraction or leisure, he cut off their sexes and forbade them to touch each other; for now on, they would use science and cloning to multiply and thrive all through the galaxy._

_And to avoid any wasteful conflict between them, he connected all their minds together, so they would always yield to his Almighty and perfect will that was to bring light to the whole universe, and he would always know if they ever had even the slightest dirty idea._

_Finally, so they would see how small they were compared to him, he made them mortal, so that they would know that they were expendable, that none of them was important compared to Him. He called them the Horde, for they were not a people, but just a crowd kneeling before him, and as an emblem, he gave them wings, so that they would remember everyday their past shame. And he left in space with them, for they were never to see their home land again._

_  
For it is Horde Prime’s will, and we are the Horde; for we shall bring the light to the galaxy._

_* * *_

I cannot sleep after such a story. The vision of these magnificent beings being stripped of all what made them free because they dared challenge an arbitrary authority… It is terrifying. How many more variations of such a cruelty could there be in this universe? And is there even a greater monster in this universe who would have twisted this one in a never-ending chain?

I do not even want to think about it. I saw enough with what they did on some people I love, and one that almost through me off a cliff but who I’m still fond of anyway.

It answers Swift Wind’s question though. Unless it is another lie from this devil. Either way, it prevents me from sleeping. I cannot but think about them, stripped of every joy they could ever get, to satisfy the thirst for power of one single individual. It disgusted me.

I try to talk through it with my dads the morning after, but they ditch it as being just a myth, probably a story to maintain them in line. Still… could there be a bottom of truth in this, a sparkle of fact to spark fear in their hearts? Did he even left them a heart?

* * *

[POV Glimmer]

Bow joins me in the cemetery chamber. I have been there for a while now, looking at her. Why did she have to die like this? I regret so much not talking to her more before it was too late. I should have listened her more, I should have loved her while I had the time instead of always being mad at her. I touch the hand of the statue, and bawl.

If I only could make her come back, just for a moment, what would I even say to her? That I miss her? It does not make sense. Her death does not make any sense. None of this makes any sense!

“Hi Glimmer.”

  
He strokes my hand gently.

“I am sorry for yesterday” I say. “I am sorry for all this.”

“There is nothing to be sorry for” he answers with a faint relieving smile. “But I mean it when I say you should move on. You have the right not to forgive Catra, and even not to forgive Adora if you want. But you owe to yourself not to let this anger eat you down.”

“I know! It’s just… I can’t help but hate her right now. Why should I forgive her in the first place? She killed my mother!”

“And don’t you think she has paid enough for it already?” he replies.

I turn my head away. Now this is more than I can hear right now.

I did not expect him to defend Catra. Is everyone really going to be against me on this matter? Can’t they see I am the victim here? Why does no one understands the pain of losing a mother? Or maybe there is someone who will be able to listen to me, although all what he seems to be doing these days is to run away from me.

* * *

“Dad?”

Mystacor, like everywhere else in Etheria, is being rebuilt. The work seems faster here, thanks to the powers of so many sorcerers in one place; and they are not even all here, as most of them took the opportunity to go back to their home places, to help their friends and their people. In these times of reunion with long lost loves, my father stood single with our common grieve. He looks at me, but his mind is in a different place, I know it.

“I am sorry, sweet pea.” he whispers when I hug him. “I have been scanning the stars with all of Mystacor’s strength to look for your mother, but nothing has come to me yet.”

His eyes are swollen with the tears he shed and the sleep he missed. Right now, all I want is to stay in his arms and stop thinking about everything else: Catra, my kingdom, Bow, Adora… Now it is just my dad and me.

But this too short moment of bliss is suddenly cut off by a knock on the door of my father’s office. Aunt Casta comes in. She is equally saddened by all what happened in the last few days, and in her hands she holds a paper folded in three.

“This arrived to Brightmoon this morning” she says, “and was immediately transferred here. It is for you.”

She hands me the paper. I glance at it, and see the erratic writing, the wet stains from salty tears, and the signature. I fold it back.

“I don’t want to read it.” I reply.

“Maybe you should, baby.” says my father.

I cannot believe it. Even him is beginning to grow soft on them? How? Reluctantly, I open the letter again, and begin to read.

_Dear Sparkles,_

_I do know how to start this letter. You have every right to be angry at me. If I were in your_ _place, I wouldn’t forgive me. Adora disagrees, but I know y_ _ou and me_ _have this in common: we are stubborn. And I will not use what I went through with Horde Prime as a bypass to your friendship._

_So I will earn it. Adora and I met Hordak yesterday. We know your mother is somewhere in this universe. Alive or dead, I have no idea, but if there is any possibility she is, I promise you to do everything in my power to bring her back to you._

_I am going alone. Adora needs not to suffer from this. Please forgive her, for all she does it trying to protect you, or me._

_When I pulled the switch, all I wanted was to destroy the world. But you and all you princesses gave me hope there was room for me in it. But I must do this to deserve it._

_If I ever dare come back on Etheria without it accomplished, I demand you to put me on trial and judge me for it._

_I hope for the sake of both of us that we will meet again._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Catra._

I have to sit. Someone, maybe my dad, draws a chair for me as I let the paper fall from my shaking hands.

I feel so wrong now. All this time, they were trying their best to bring her back, to repair things and to let go of the war. My father, Adora, and even Catra. Mostly Catra. She never had a mother, and now she was leaving everything she had ever known for a hypothetical chance to retrieve mine.

And I had been the only one to cling at old grudges, unable to let go of the past. Instead of helping and repairing, I had been punishing.

“When did the letter come from?” I ask Aunt Casta.

“Dryl” she replies.

“I guess this is where I’ll go then.”

I stand up, and look at my dad for an instant, and among all the sadness, I can read a sparkle of light. He puts his hand on my shoulder.

“Your mother would be proud.” He says. “But you must be quick. Hurry now, before you lose someone else forever.”

* * *

[POV Mycah]

As my daughter leaves, I come back to my desk. Casta comes back with a cup of tea, and puts a sorry hand on my shoulder.

“Still nothing?” she asks, more out of habit than really wondering. It has been days now that I have been using all magic I ever knew to scan the skies, and nothing. I had the help of all Entrapta’s tech, and I even wrote to Hordak. Nothing. The only reason I do not give up is… I cannot accept her death.

Without thinking, I run a final check before going to bed. I know her image will come and visit me in my dreams. How I envy these young people, able to pull their lover out of death’s grip with the power of their love; such a destiny is not for an old man like me. I am turning crazy, for she is even here, a ghost next to me.

“Every thing is going to be fine, my love,” she whispers as I walk towards the mattress added at the last minute to allow me to stay a little more staring at the stars.

“I wish I could have talked to you one last time” I sob. “Angella…”

“We had our time” she replies with a mysterious smile. “And have you seen the marvellous daughter we made?”

I cannot help but laugh between the tears.

“Not bad, not bad, I have to agree...” I breathe a little. This is so unfair, for everyone. For Glimmer, for Angella, for me. She is already fainting. “But what am I going to do now?”

“You will live.”

And thus, she disappears.


	8. Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “The man who has a conscience suffers whilst acknowledging his sin. That is his punishment.”  
> ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Crime and Punishment

“I won’t let you go without me!”

Catra grabs a piece of tech on Entrapta’s desk, and holds it as a threat. I can see tears flowing of his cheeks. The princess of Dryl is in a corner, terrified.

I never expected I would have to fight my love again, but here we are.

“I thought I was clear! You matter. You deserve to be happy.” I breath.“ _We_ deserve to be happy.”

He is back against the wall, and I step forward. It is Horde Prime ship all over again, and I so not want to go through this, not now, not after the hope we would be at peace…

The things I would do to protect him… I would lock him down until things would turn better if I did not know it would make them worse.

“I don’t want you to take unnecessary risks!” he replies.

“And have you thought about how I’d be, all alone here, waiting for you, worrying? And how will you fly the ship on your own? Have you thought about it?”

“You are not alone. You have the others. They don’t _like_ me, they just _accept_ me because I am with _you._ But the truth is, I have no friends.”

Great, because now he started to sound like me! If he could not see any value in himself, how would I be able to show that he had value to me?  
Then suddenly, another voice raises.

“But I am your friend” Entrapta says.

  
And to our puzzled eyes, she carefully approaches Catra who is too surprised to react, and does the most awkward hug one has ever came to see. Catra looks at the purple girl who does not move, and does not dare to move either.

“And so is Scorpia” I add while Catra is still blocked. “And Perfuma.”

“They are nice because they pity me, not because they _like_ me,” he replies dryly.

I do not know why, but this phrase more than any other – and I have heard a lot of others to this point – breaks my heart more than anything. I am in front of a well of loneliness and suffering so deep all the love I have inside cannot just fill it. It is a bottomless black hole that has settled in my kitten’s heart and that chews every good thing with try to give him, only to spit it out in the shape of self-hate, a ghost no sword will ever cut through, and I am out of weapons.

I sigh.

“I read the letter. You want a trial? We will give you a trial. But you have to promise that whatever the sentence is, you will follow it.”

Catra swallows. Let my heart be hardened, for I hate to know what is happening here; but I just want my love to stop punishing himself, and if such a promise, however bleak it sounds right now, is the mean, then I will do it.

“I’ll contact Glimmer, and make sure it happens fast.”

He nods. It seems for now I have managed to get peace, but who knows if he will not use a minute of my inattention and run away. I hate having to resort to this kind of tool, but they are necessary in such times.

“Give me your hands.” I say, as gently as possible, but to my ears it still sounds too harsh.

I do my best not to make any noise as I draw the shackles. I used to have them in the old times, when I was hoping that during one of our fights I could just capture her… him. I never had the chance, the idea or the courage to use them.

“It is for your own good, my love.”

The words leave a sour taste of betrayal in my mouth.

To my surprise, he lets me do it. I am relieved, because it would have been so hard right now to fight after everything, and at the same time it breaks my heart again to see him giving up so easily.

My heart screams to just take them away, Melog and him, like I did when Glimmer got angry. We could walk through Etheria, find a place to settle reap the fruits of our love’s eternal spring… but deep down, I know it is impossible. As long his heart is soaked with guilt, we will never stop running. He needs to confront it, once and for all, and I am scared, because all is in Glimmer’s hands now and I have just no idea how she will be.

I cannot look at him now, all curled up in a corner of the rooms, with a concerned Melog’s head in his lap and his ears folded down; need a minute out before I come back to keep an eye on him, but still I hear it.

“I hope she’ll take my life for it.”


	9. Trial of the prince without a kingdom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “ESTRAGON: Don't touch me! Don't question me! Don't speak to me! Stay with me!  
> VLADIMIR: Did I ever leave you?  
> ESTRAGON: You let me go.”  
> ― Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

[POV Double Trouble]

A trial is like a play: everyone stands their part, the dialogues are fights, there are the heroes and the villains, and audience to cheer and fear, a setting, even costumes. People have prepared their lines, and my, how they deliver them! Yes, a trial is a play, with your life on the line, and what a dramatic one today for it was none other than my dear kitten, the so-loved Prince Catra. Such an entrance this actor made! The shackles, the beaten face, the ruffled hair, everything for a good convict.

Now you will say, Catra is not a Prince, maybe some of you think Catra is not even a man. Well if I dare say, this is also part of drama. Rulers or kings, men or women, this is only a role, and Catra chose this one: the prince without kingdom, the former villain, desperate for a quest that would give meaning to his life and own him the love of everyone.

People think the hero of a trial is the victim, the accuser, but she is not: the real hero is the criminal. It is his fate that is to decide. The victim has no destiny: their life is going to continue whatever happens, but the criminal! Oh! It is a tragedy to watch them fight, for it is their life. Are they going to be condemned? Sentenced? Pardoned? Freed? The suspense is unbearable.

The setting is quite rough: Centralia, formerly known as the Fright Zone headquarters. A field, a few chairs, a small platform, a desk. An open setting… interesting.

But this is of no importance: who cares for the theatre, whether it is a dump or a palace, for the power is in the characters, and the first one is right on the stage for the exposition scene.

“So hem… hello… my name is Bow, and my friends said I was the most sensible one here, so they chose me to lead this trial… hem…”

Arrow boy stands on the platform. The most sensible maybe, but his acting skills kind of suck. But for once, I am here to enjoy, not to participate. He closes his eyes a second, breathes and coughs a little, and then begins again:

“We are here today to decide what to do with our friend Catra, who is accused by Queen Glimmer of second-degree murder of her mother, Queen Angella. Oh this is terrible…” he sighs.

Suddenly, a pink figure appears from the back, as if not paying any attention. She seems very concerned.

“… Adora, don’t you think we could add a few flowers on the desk? It would be less gloomy you know…”

“Do as you wish, Perfuma, but please do it fast…” Adora replies. She seems to be pissed by the whole situation, though not as much as the main protagonist on the accused bench, who seems on the edge of cracking down and yell at the poor Buttercup.

  
After she adds a few colours to the _décor_ , Bow decides to grab his paper and just read it, because obviously he has not learnt his lines.

“So, may I introduce you the present parties: first, the plaintive, Queen Glimmer of Brightmoon, who accuses the defendant, Catra of the Fright Zone – wait, do you have a title? Adora, should I…”

“I am a Lord” replies Catra with a smirk. “Lord Catra of the Fright Zone, Strongest in the Crimson Waste.”

“Hell dude, don’t make your case any worse,” whispers someone at my back, and I notice the horse is there. I cannot help but agree with him: this is a criminal court, so one must stay serious.

“Okaaayyy” resumes Bow, who is already tired. “So, the plaintive accuses the defendant of second-degree homicide without intention of murder, by the means of a dimensional portal that forced the plaintive’s mother to yield her life in order to avoid the destruction of the entire universe. Though the victim was not explicitly targeted and the purpose of the defendant when using the portal was not clear, the consequences of the action lead to the victim’s disappearance, hence this accusation.”

  
He breathes. The beginning was a little rough, but I must say the boy is hitting it now. There is a dead silence, and the “defendant” twirls his tail a little.

“Each party is allowed to choose one person to help them present their arguments, starting with the defendant. Then, the defendant will be asked if they want to plead guilty or not for the matter at hands, and then, we will proceed with the trial.”

“No need. I plead guilty,” Catra says. “Let’s settle this joke quickly.”

I see Adora punching her forehead in despair. At the first row, Frosta raises her hand and whispers “pick me, pick me Glimmer”. Apparently, I am not the only one who sees this as a game, and an atmosphere of lightness despite the importance of the matter. There is something weird going on here, and I wonder when the kitten is going to sense it as well.

Bow looks at Catra. It is just obvious that this wholesome twink is just trying to remain calm.

“You sure you don’t want to pick someone?”

“Really? Fiiiiine,” he rolls his eyes. “I pick Adora.”

Obviously relieved, the blond jock gets up and promptly sits next to him. She tries a kiss on the kitten’s cheek, but is pushed back.

“And you, Glimmer?”

“I choose Frosta” the queen answers, immediately followed by a scream of joy from the designated individual.

She is the only one who looks quite serious, though not with the anger that usually fills the accuser in such an ordeal: it is more melancholy, or even day-dreaming. She is somewhere else than here, or has already prepared what she has to say and is repeating mentally; it is the only way I explain her choice of attorney.

“Fine then. I will now present you the jury: Princess Mermista of Salineas, Princess Scorpia of Horror Hall, and Princess Perfuma of Plumeria.”

Mermista lets escaped a roar of boredom, and reluctantly comes to sit at the desk next to Perfuma and Scorpia. I cannot help but notice these two looking at each other and standing a little to close from one another. Good for them. I guess I’ll be the last spinster here.

“This is already boooooring” sighs Mermista. “Can’t we just say there is prescription in the name of the defendant saving our asses more than I can count and just be done with it?”

“I am not sure about all this” Scorpia adds with an uncomfortable voice. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Neither did I” Perfuma replies, “But that does not mean we are not able to do it!”

“Are you done? Can we start now?” yells a pissed Bow. “Or we will still be here next week!”

Everyone calms down. It seems for a minute that the atmosphere is back to the one of a real trial, for the actual issue at stake. The cat shakes his tail again.

“So, if there is nothing else to be added and unless she wants some time to deliberate with her second, we will start with listening to the plaintive. Rise, Glimmer, and speak.”

As if awaken from a dream, Glimmer stands. She seems to hesitate, for a minute.

“I am here because I am hurt.” she starts. “Everybody lost someone in the war against the Horde, and we have to live with it. For me, it is my mother. For other people, it is their fathers, their sons, their daughters, their friends or their lovers. And now, the Etherian members of the Horde live among us, and I know, it is hard, but we cannot hold them all in cells. Most of them had orders that they were following; a home that was invaded; or had never known anything else in their life, and for that, they must be forgiven.”

While saying this, she looks at three individuals sitting in the last row: a girl with dreadlocks, a small blond guy and a lizard-like gigantic individual. Their faces are familiar, and by the way they dress, they are probably former members of the Horde. They lower their chin at her gaze. I notice a trolley, with the weirdest baby I have ever seen. Not that I did not already think all babies are awfully ugly, but this one really hits the top. I take a mental note to ask the lizard and the blond if they made it themselves or got it from a sale of models with a factory default.

Oh but Glimmer is on stage again, and it is time for the great tragic rant about the death of her dear mummy.

“But how can we forgive when the individual had the possibility to fight against the Horde, had been handed the chance to do so and to live in peace in the Rebellion, and still chose to stay? How can we forgive when, having the ability to take decisions due to their position, the individual still chose to lead his army at war? How can I forgive when the decision of this individual led to the loss of the most precious being I ever had?”

“That’s not true!” Adora screams. “Catra was doing it for Shadow Weaver, for Hordak! She was not…”

“Hordak never gave me the order to open the portal, Adora” Catra retorts, lowering his head. “It was my decision, and only mine.”

“Please, let Glimmer finish” interrupts Bow. “It is not over”.

“What Catra did is unforgivable. For the truth is, I have the testimony of someone who can attest that they informed her…”

“It’s him now!” Adora yells. “See, she cannot even get the pronouns right!”

“You can’t either” Catra grumbles. Oh, so there would be trouble brewing between these two? Interesting.

“… that she… err, he was informed of the consequences of activating the portal. With this testimony, we know that the defendant had perfect knowledge of the deadly potential of their actions, and therefore activated it with the intention to destroy the world, and that included my mother as much as anyone else. Some people may say that my mother’s death was not a murder; it was a sacrifice that was made to avoid a genocide.”

Her last word puts a lid on the audience. I can hear a faint sob coming from Catra’s seat. They are completely curled up in a ball, hiding their face in their hands, while Adora tries without success to pat them on the shoulder. I know what is happening inside that beautiful head of his, the expectations based on what I guess is good old Horde justice. Buried deep down in all this new kitten pampered by their lover and her friends until recently, there is a fear of pain hammered by years of beating.

Glimmer takes another breath.

“But sometimes, miracles happened, and although I am standing here today, I have to say: thank you, Catra.”

He raises his head, his sobs brutally stopped by the surprise.

“You saved my life without caring of what would happen to yours, and when everything was lost, you were there to give She-Ra the power to save us all. And I even grew to like you, not only as a hero, but also as a person. The truth is, I want you in my life, despite everything. For you are my friend, it is even harder to say what I am about to say now. But… I forgive you, Catra.”

* * *

[POV Adora]

I close my eyes. I was hoping so much this would happen, but I actually never thought it would make me so emotional. I grew to know Glimmer, however, and although it was a great deal, I sort of always thought she would say that. Now we were waiting for the real miracle to happen.

“So what sentence do you request, Glim?” says Bow, with a soft tone.

“The sentence I request, submitted to the jury’s approval, is this: the defendant’s forgiveness, full and complete, from everyone…” she glances at me, and I guess she read in my head, because she concludes: “including himself.”

Catra looks at me, confused, but I leave him no time to protest and kiss this mouth with all my heart, but he pushes me away.

“NO!” He shrieks. “Are you fucking with me?”

I hear Bow mutter “Well, it was the defendent’s turn to speak anyway so I guess we…” but his voice is covered by Catra’s voice.

“… This is ridiculous! How can you yield so easily on this?”

“Catra, please…” I start. “You promised…”

“But I… I am… I did it… I am… I am guilty…”

He stumbles and loose his words in a soft sob, and I cannot help but open my arms for him to find haven in them. We stay like this, for a minute, and I hear him swallow the sobs, straighten his back, draw a deep breath, and get away from me to walk to Glimmer, and to my astonishment, _kneel_ before her.

There is a long pause, after which Bow seems to remember the setting we are in and tries to catch at it with a:

“So… hem… does the jury agrees with the sentence?”

“Yes” Mermista says, for even she sports a small tear that she does every effort to hide.

“Of course” adds Perfuma. “Oh, my, this is so beautiful!” she bawls.

Scorpia just nods, with a mysterious half-smile under the flows of water covering her face. I know exactly what she thinks, for I think the exact same thing: we are proud of the journey accomplished.

“And…” adds Bow who is himself struggling to maintain a steady voice. “Does the defendant agree?”

“Well” retorts a half-crying, half-sneering voice, “I guess I will.”

A scream of joy rises from Frosta’s behalf, who is quickly followed with a general roar, and in the middle of this, I see a thing even I dare not be jealous of, for I see my best friend and my lover hugging and I know this time they cannot be loving each other more.


	10. Sorry Catra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Freeing yourself was one thing, claiming ownership of that freed self was another.”  
> ― Toni Morrison, Beloved

“Are you sure of this idea?”

It is one of the last sunny days in autumn’s endless season. Winters are short in Brightmoon, and never hard enough to be feared. A few days ago, Adora came out of the bathroom sporting a sharp undercut that rose all above her ears. Everyone complimented her, including my own clumsy self, and I must say it raised wishes inside me that were not that deep buried.

“It’s just… last time I had my hair cut, it was by… you know who.” Now she gives me the puppy eyes. “And it was only to make me vulnerable, to see my chip. So if I could only… reclaim this…”

She holds me against her heart. For this is it: I will reclaim my body, inch by inch; I refuse to let anyone do anything to it that I did not agree, and to do anything with it that I can regret.

“All right. I understand” Adora says. “I will help you, otherwise you will just mess this up.”

I sit down on the chair. My hair has grown a little already since the war. She combs through it, in silence, several times.

“You know this will make Glimmer and Bow crazy” she sighs. “They have been so adamant already that you let your mane grow back.”

“They will get used to it” I reply. “I am not doing this for anyone. Just for me. Now give them to me.”

I know that behind that chair, she is proud and smiling, but she does not comply by my demand. Instead,she draws the electric clippers herself, and plugs the guard number five.

“I’ll do it” she whispers.

I shiver a little, and close my eyes as she draws it through my forehead. I feel some little locks fall on my face, and raise my hand quickly. Adora turns the clippers off, concerned, while I let out a loud sneeze.

“Awwwww” she giggles.

“Fffft” I reply. She brushes a little my cheek and kisses it. It feels warm. She turns the clippers on again, and run them strip by strip, until she reaches the back of my ears. My belly sinks. I had forgotten this.

She turns the buzzing machine off again.

“What happened here, Catra?” she says with a loud and concerned voice. “What did you do… oh, my…”

I feel her fingers touch the raw bald spots on my scalp behind each ear. I remember now why I wanted to do this on my own on the first place. I guess it is time to confess about this.

“It’s my grey tufts…”

“Your tufts? Catra, the hell did you do to them?” her voice raises more and more worried at every answer.

“I couldn’t stand them anymore after all the times she… so I…” I draw a long breath, “I might have plucked them.”

“You did WHAT?” she yells.

“Well I just took them lock by lock and…” I try to explain, but stop as I see her face in the mirror of the bathroom. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would upset you so much…”

“It’s not me you should be apologising to” she retorts.

“What?”

“You know what I’m talking about…”

I do, but somehow hope I can get out of it by pretending I don’t. It does not work.

“Please, Adora, it’s okay, it’s not a big deal…”

“Say sorry to yourself, Catra.”

Her voice is an ultimatum. I look at the half-sheared goblin in the mirror and sighs. “Sorry, Catra.”

“Sorry what?”

“Oh come on...”

“Remember what Perfuma said. It’s important, _so say it_.”

“Sorry I have hurt myself. I promise I won’t do it again.”

She grumbles, still a little mad but satisfied at the same time, take my head in her two arms and kisses both of my ears. “At least with this haircut I’ll be able to see if you keep your promise.”

She then proceeds to the rest of the cut that goes in an unusual silence. After running the number five all over, she draws smaller ones to do tapper the sides and fade the cut with the fuzz that covers my skin. The sensation of her messing through my nape is almost arousing.

I feel good. Maybe I will not conquer the world yet, but I took one step closer to be okay living in it.

She kisses me on the lips. Now this is also a good thing. There are still hairs all over my face and one my lap, and I clean myself quickly.

“I love you” she whispers.

“I love me too” I answer jokingly. She raises an eyebrow.

“Well, I hope one day you will.”

THE END


End file.
